-LRB- CNN -RRB- -- I thought I was prepared for North Korea . After all , I 'd spent more than half my life studying , traveling to and living in the former Soviet Union as well as other Communist and post-Communist countries .

Commuters head to work in downtown Pyongyang this past February .

So , as we arrived at Pyongyang airport , I felt oddly at home . The same empty airport as in Leningrad in 1969 . -LRB- In the North Korean capital we later found out our flight was the only one scheduled for arrival that day . -RRB-

Staring down at our plane as we taxied to the terminal , a huge color portrait of Kim Il Sung , North Korea 's `` Great Leader . ''

No matter where we went over the next nine days , the gaze of Kim Il Sung , or his son , Kim Jong Il , the current ruler known as the `` Dear Leader , '' would follow us , from portraits hung on buildings , monuments , bridges ... to lapel pins on the chests of almost everyone we met , including the two men who greeted us , Mr. Jang and Mr. Song , who would be our guides , minders and controllers for the duration of our stay .

In 1969 , arriving in Russia as a student , it seemed that every street I traveled was decorated with the image of Vladimir Lenin , father of the Russian revolution . Adults wore lapel pins with images of the Bolshevik leader , children wore little `` Baby Lenin '' pins .

`` Lenin lived , Lenin lives , Lenin will live . '' I was told , and so does Kim Il Sung , who died in 1994 . Even in death , the Communist leaders have something in common : their bodies are embalmed and lie in glass-covered coffins , on display in mausoleums in Moscow and Pyongyang . Russian experts reportedly helped the North Koreans with the cosmetic aspects of political immortality .

The streets of the North Korean capital reminded me of Moscow in the 1960s . Almost no traffic , just official cars whizzing down empty boulevards , curtains pulled shut to protect elite Communist party members from the prying eyes of pedestrians . In Moscow they used to drive long black Zils or Volgas . In Pyongyang , it 's mostly older Mercedes , often an incongruous baby blue .

In any country , one of the best ways to see how people live is to visit the food stores and markets . For several days we pestered our North Korean guides to take us to markets where the first tiny buds of capitalism are sprouting , the government allowing people to sell fruits and vegetables -- one way of relieving the food shortage in the North .

In search of state-owned food stores , I went for a walk one evening in town , without a guide . The stores were closed , it was a holiday , but as I peered through the darkened window of one shop I went back in time to the stores I saw in Russia a quarter century ago . A few tin cans of fish stacked neatly in pyramids , a half-bare counter displaying a few lonely onions and cucumbers . This was in the capital , much better provisioned than the countryside , where North Koreans often go hungry .

Choreographed encounters

In Russia , our guides went to extraordinary lengths to control what we saw and limit our interaction with average people . Mr. Jang and Mr. Song must have studied at the same guide school . Their mentality was the same : make sure we saw nothing that could reflect negatively on the government or Communist Party leadership .

One morning , as we were driven out of Pyongyang to a mountain resort ensuring we would be kept far from any interaction with ordinary people , we asked our guides to let us stop by the road and shoot some pictures of the countryside .

Grudgingly , they agreed . Suddenly , the young one , 29-year-old Mr. Jang , sporting a sleek black pompadour and a smirk , told us to stop . `` There is an old woman down there , '' he explained . Presumably , her bent back was not what he wanted on tape .

Our older guide , Mr. Song , a former diplomat , was more flexible . He cracked a smile when I told him of how my Soviet escorts back in the 1970s took us on a boat ride down the Volga , refusing our pleas to stop along the way . At one deserted spot we were allowed to pull into shore for a picnic lunch . Several of us set off on foot to see what we could find . In a tiny village , we came upon a lovely young woman wearing makeup . When we complimented her on how nice she looked , she said : `` They told us you were coming . ''

Knowing that virtually every encounter is choreographed in advance creates a strange mind-warp . In Pyongyang we asked to see some of the everyday life in North Korea and our guides finally took us to the city park , a magnificently beautiful expanse of hills and trees .

Hearing drumming in the distance , I walked swiftly to see where it was coming from . A few minutes away I spotted an open-air pavilion filled with older Koreans , most of them women in traditional flowing dress , cinched at the bust with a sash . They were singing , dancing and laughing uproariously , some of them beating out a rhythm on small red-painted drums shaped like an hourglass . I begin taking pictures . They simply smiled and kept dancing .

Mr. Song caught up and we both surveyed the scene , utterly charming in its simplicity and gaiety . He turned to me with a smile and said , `` They knew you were coming . '' Was he pulling my leg ? Was he telling the truth ? I guess I 'll never know but I prefer to think that at least this encounter with Koreans was not scripted .

The North may have a hard-edged image in the world of fierce militarism and , just as in the old Soviet Union , much of life is run like the army , with group -- not individual -- activities the norm . Yet , in spite of that hard-edged atmosphere , there is an incongruous feeling of primness , as well .

In Pyongyang , 20-something traffic girls direct the non-existent traffic , robot-like in their white uniforms , black hair pulled back in identical World War II-style chignons . They remind me of little Russian girls in their starched school uniforms , organdy bows in their hair .

Women in Moscow dressed neatly , but modestly , with no access to imported clothes . It 's much the same here in Pyongyang yet there is one sign of changing times in today 's North Korea : a flash , here and there , of modest jewelry , unthinkable just a short time ago .

Following the Great Leader

How to understand what people really think and feel ? It 's a question I asked myself so many times in Russia and it hounds me here in North Korea . There was no way for our CNN crew to blend in , with our Western clothes , Western looks and our mandatory silk arm bands , given to us by our Foreign Ministry minders , navy blue with white lettering identifying us as journalists .

In Russia , beneath the surface of repressive political control , if you looked hard enough , and spoke the language , you could sometimes find those lonely dissidents living in `` internal migration '' rejecting the pressure to conform .

In North Korea , conformity is taken to a degree I never imagined possible . At the `` Airarang , '' the mass gymnastics show celebrating the 60th anniversary of the end of Japanese occupation of Korea , thousands of performers dressed in military uniforms re-enact the battles and suffering that gave birth to their country .

Before the show , a murmuring in the audience builds to a buzz . The personal photographers of Kim Jong Il suddenly appear close to the seat of honor . As the short , rotund leader enters the stadium , the audience leap to their feet , clapping rapturously as `` Dear Leader '' applauds them back .

Do they believe in Kim ? Believe in his `` juche '' philosophy of extreme self-reliance ? Unable to speak Korean , cut off from unscripted meetings with Koreans , I have no answer .

Young Mr. Jang tries to explain it to me : Korea , he says , is like a rabbit . `` Its face is toward China . Its back is toward the United States . Its ass is toward Japan . Its mouth is toward Russia . ''

Korea , he tells me , needs no one . Its unity is its weapon . Surrounded by enemies , it must look to itself to survive .

In the mountains a two-hour drive from Pyongyang , there is a massive museum cut into the mountainside , built to house all the gifts given by international leaders to Kim Il Sung and his son , Kim Jong Il . I ask what is the first gift Kim Il Sung was given ?

The guide , an elegant woman in traditional dress , sweeps though the cold marble corridors , leading us to a room where a full-size train car stands , its elaborate wood interior and brass lamps buffed and polished , a gift from Soviet ruler Joseph Stalin .

Down one more corridor to a final room on our tour , the diminutive guide tugs at the door and I gasp . A life-size figure of the Great Leader , dressed in a suit , standing amid trees near a lake , mountains in the distance . It is eerily real . Even the leaves on the trees rustle as a breeze -LRB- from a hidden fan ? -RRB- blows by .

The music is solemn , stately . Mr. Jang and Mr. Song stand reverently and bow . The Great Leader stares blindly into the distance . Does he know where his country is headed ?

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CNN correspondent recalls August 2005 visit to North Korea 's capital

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Visit by international visitors was tightly choreographed

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North Koreans are taught to adhere `` juche , '' belief of self-reliance